General Sense of Apathy
by Girl Called Mozart
Summary: [Chapter 2 up!] For Piccolo, love is sex, and also something he can never have. But someone's going to come along and change his views upside down... Language, discussion of rape, and sexual content.
1. Too Early For Thinking

-*- General Sense of Apathy -*-  
  
  
  
Author: Girl Called Mozart (or, namely, me)  
  
Summary: For Piccolo, love is sex, and also something that he can never have. However, a young woman who's been horridly hurt seeks comfort in his "difference" and teaches him that love is more emotional than physical. Rated for language, discussion of rape, and sexual content.  
  
Rated: A big ol' fat 'R', for obvious reasons as you'll soon discover. It might get worse, and in that case, I'll properly rate it an NC-17…but we'll see how it goes. Then again, I'm not your mother. Read at your own risk.  
  
Disclaimer: No one's going to sue me for this. So there.  
  
Quick Note: This takes place after the show (DBZ) ends, but before Dragonball GT, even though I hate to count GT as an actual series because Toriyama had nothing to do with it – which is probably why Piccolo died in that series. Oops, did I say that out loud? Shame on me.  
  
WARNING: This is my story, and therefore I hold the right to take liberties. Thus, dead people might be alive, personas may be slightly off, and other such inconsistencies. Hey, deal with it.  
  
  
  
-*-*-*-  
  
  
  
"You must be kidding me!" Piccolo cried, pounding his palms into the steering wheel. "Why do I even drive this fucking thing? Damn you people, move for Christsake! MOVE!" The traffic wasn't budging, much to the Namek's aggravation. He rubbed furiously at his temples to ease the headache and then cranked down the window to get a better look at what was actually going on.  
  
Just his luck, an accident further up the highway.  
  
"Fuck," he sighed, putting the window back up. "I'm gonna be here all day."  
  
Just as those words escaped his lips, lo and behold, the car in front of him rolled ahead a few feet. Then another. Then another. Pretty soon, Piccolo was driving past the wreck that caused all of the congestion. He purposely slowed in order to rubberneck, because let's face it, car crashes are interesting no matter how much one wishes to turn away.  
  
Two cars, a dark green truck and an awful brown station wagon, had collided full force into each other. An ambulance drove off while the paramedics studied a woman on the pavement. The second Piccolo passed the scene, the men in white covered her face with a blanket and began to lift her onto a stretcher. Piccolo blinked, only mildly disturbed that he just witnessed unexpected death, and turned up the radio.  
  
"You've been listening to 98.3 The Groove, a clear-channel radio broadcast. Coming up this hour are Baha Men, Shaggy, and maybe I'll be able to throw in a bit of Jennifer Lopez. Don't touch that dial, because—"  
  
"Oops, I touched it," Piccolo droned, changing the station. "This is what I get for borrowing Goku's car."  
  
  
  
-*-  
  
  
  
The bar was lifeless as usual. The only other souls there besides Piccolo were the bartender and a homeless guy who made it his job to sit in the back booth and shout obscenities. They were placid nightlife, and Piccolo was strangely glad for their unobtrusive company. He languidly sipped a beer and listened to the low saxophone emanating from the juke box. A collection of empty bottles glared up at him, silently inquiring what he was exactly drowning and why he was doing it.  
  
"Fags! All of 'em! Fags!" shouted Homeless. Piccolo hid an amused grin and calmly asked for another drink. The bartender slid him one and went back to cleaning the glasses.  
  
Ring-ring…  
  
The bell on the door jingled as a customer strode in. Piccolo's brow raised in curiosity. Usually he was the only patron there, and he didn't know of anyone else who favored this bar. A bouncy blonde sat down on one of the barstools and seemed not to pay attention as her little skirt hiked up her thighs. She was practically poured into that outfit, and Piccolo stared at her for a while until she finally returned the gesture. The bartender took her order and passed her a scotch in water.  
  
"See something you like?" the blonde asked, moving over to the stool beside Piccolo.  
  
"Is it for sale?" he replied, a dangerous glint in his eye. The woman tilted her head as golden ringlets cascaded over her shoulder.  
  
"Depends on what you want to pay."  
  
"I need to inspect the goods before I buy, you understand."  
  
"Of course."  
  
She undid the zipper on the leather top and opened it to reveal full, swollen breasts. "Feel free to touch the merchandise," she whispered seductively. The bartender pretended not to be watching.  
  
"Bitch has tits!" shouted Homeless. "Tits and lots of tits!"  
  
Piccolo pulled this prostitute into a passionate kiss and groped her full- on. His fingers slowly caressed her silky skin and then dared to venture into the skirt. She pulled away and smirked. "Nuh-uh," she cooed. "I need fifty before that comes off." He paid and the woman tucked the bill into her boot. She took that opportunity to slide her hands up Piccolo's legs, all the while gently growling. When she reached his waist, she looked, and then pouted.  
  
"What?" Piccolo insisted, already knowing the dilemma.  
  
"If you can't get it up, I can't get it on," she said, drawing to her feet. He was able to cop a feel before she zipped up her top and left the bar.  
  
"Fuck, you blew it!" shouted Homeless.  
  
Piccolo only laughed and took another sip of his beer. It was a real shame that they couldn't have gone farther, but that was the problem with being asexual.  
  
"Well damn!" wailed the bartender. "If you're not gonna have her, I will!" He leapt over the counter and dashed madly out the door waving a Benjamin high in the air. Piccolo chugged the last of his beer, left the money to pay for his drinks and the prostitute's scotch, and headed for the car.  
  
  
  
-*-  
  
  
  
Piccolo started feeling the alcohol half way through the drive back to Goku's. Nameks were funny like that. He pushed open the door to find the kitchen lights burning white hot. The thick smells of dinner, long since past, wafted through the room and made him feel sicker than he already did. A blurred figure in purple and red sat at the table.  
  
"Back so late?" asked Chichi. "What kept you?"  
  
"Nothin', jus'…traffic," Piccolo breathed. "Stay…off my back, wom'n. I'm gonna…gonna crash on yer sofa." He managed to wobble woozily into the living room where he collapsed onto the couch and groaned. Chichi walked in after him and chuckled at the sight.  
  
"You know, Piccolo, sooner or later you're going to have to stop all of this," she pointed out.  
  
"All 'a wha…?"  
  
"This! Borrowing Goku's car every other night, getting yourself hammered, and then coming back here to sleep off the effects. This isn't a life."  
  
Piccolo thought about this for a minute, more trying to form the words in his mind than actually thinking about Chichi's point. "Las' time I ch'cked…th's was a life," he mumbled, not really fully comprehending the things coming from his mouth. "I'm in a life, an' it's a life…"  
  
"Just sleep," Chichi ordered, taking a sheet from the linen closet and covering the Namek's body. Piccolo closed his eyes and plummeted into the depths of unconsciousness. He remained that way until, near five in the morning, the kitchen light shone into the living room. Piccolo stirred and awoke from his fitful sleep. Pain tore through in his head and nearly caused him to vomit, but he propped himself up on his elbows and gazed in on what was happening.  
  
Chichi moved tiredly across the tile to open the back door. "Yes, yes, I'm coming…" Someone was at the door, supposedly. Piccolo strained to hear the frantic banging and suddenly realized how odd it seemed for a person to be knocking on a door so early in the morning. He glanced out the window to his left. It was still incredibly dark outside. He could barely make out muffled voices, and then Chichi brought a hazy figure into the house and sat them down at the kitchen table. They held each other rather close, which brought Piccolo to wonder who on earth that was.  
  
"Who's that?" he asked softly, thankful that his words were no longer horribly slurred. A quiet gasp sounded from the person Chichi had in her arms.  
  
"You startled her, Piccolo," Chichi snapped. "Go back to sleep for now."  
  
"Jesus, all I did was ask," he retorted, settling into the couch cushions and closing his eyes once again.  
  
  
  
-*-  
  
  
  
End of chapter one.  
  
  
  
So…what do you think? Like it? Dislike it? Wanna know more? Drop me a review – your feedback will be most appreciated. Five reviews spark another chapter, how does that sound? Just five, it's not all that difficult. Thanks in advance! 


	2. No Place To Go

-*- General Sense of Apathy -*-  
  
  
  
Rated: A big ol' fat 'R', for obvious reasons as you'll soon discover. It might get worse, and in that case, I'll properly rate it an NC-17…but we'll see how it goes. Then again, I'm not your mother. Read at your own risk.  
  
Disclaimer: No one's going to sue me for this. So there.  
  
Quick Note: Author's Notes will be in parenthesis like this, (A/N: Blah blah blah…).  
  
WARNING: This is my story, and therefore I hold the right to take liberties. Thus, DEAD people might be ALIVE, personas may be slightly OFF, and other such inconsistencies. Hey, DEAL with it. I stopped watching the series after the Freeza saga because I couldn't stand it.  
  
  
  
-*-*-*-  
  
  
  
When Piccolo finally got around to waking, sun poured through the windows and bathed the entire room in honey yellow. He sat up, found it rather easy to do so, and then clambered to his feet. Luckily, the kitchen was such a short distance away, since he still felt rather disoriented. Gohan sat at the table and miserably shoveled cereal into his mouth.  
  
"What's up with you?" Piccolo asked, leaning in the doorway.  
  
"I didn't get enough sleep," the Saiyajin complained. "Mom told me a guest had to use my room early this morning and so I just decided to stay awake." Piccolo's brow rose in suspicion and he thought back to when he first woke up. Chichi and brought someone into the house and that someone must've slept in Gohan's bed. But…why would Chichi do a thing like that? Why would she allow a suspicious character into her home? Chichi, who was always so careful and cautious? Didn't make sense…  
  
"Doesn't make sense," Piccolo found himself muttering. He made a beeline for the hallway to investigate, but was met by a frazzled Chichi.  
  
"Shouldn't you be leaving by now?" she insisted. "You shouldn't be here."  
  
"Where's the woman?" Piccolo asked gruffly.  
  
Chichi stiffened and poked a finger into Piccolo's chest. "Stay away from her, okay? She went through a horrible ordeal last night, and I'm the only person she feels comfortable around right now."  
  
"Who is she?" Gohan prodded. "The fact that a complete stranger slept in my bed last night isn't exactly settling." His mother pushed the bangs away from her forehead and slumped onto a chair at the table. She exhaled and stared into the emptiness in front of her. Piccolo couldn't remember the last time she looked this high-strung.  
  
"Gohan," she began apologetically. "Gohan, I'm sorry. It's just that…she needs a place to stay until things settle down. By tonight, I'll be able to make up the guest room for her, but…she might have to live here for a little while."  
  
Piccolo put his hands around the back of Chichi's chair. "What happened," he said. It wasn't a question. She swallowed anxiously at the tone of his domineering voice. "I want you to tell me who came to the door last night. And don't just answer, explain."  
  
An uneasy silence filled the room to the point where a dull ringing was beginning to wrench through their ears. Chichi's lips parted wistfully, and she rolled her eyes up towards the ceiling as if sending a prayer to Kami for to aid her speech. "It shouldn't be this difficult," she moaned.  
  
"Say it, Mum," Gohan encouraged, nearly on the edge of his seat.  
  
"The girl," Chichi began. "The girl was…raped. Last night. The attacker left her alive, luckily, but she couldn't make out his identity. She managed to get all the way to this house. I promised I would take care of her for as long as she needed. She's very shook up right now, as you could probably imagine, but I finally got to her sleep."  
  
Gohan shook his head and stirred the cereal absently. "How awful," he breathed. "Did she tell you her name?"  
  
"Foura," Chichi said, tilting her face towards Piccolo, who was now being oddly quiet. "That's why you might want to go. I'm afraid you might…startle her when she wakes."  
  
The Namek grunted and frowned. He was accustomed to gawking stares and fearful yelps, but he sure as hell wasn't going to purposely put himself up for them. He knew when to just fade into the background as much as possible.  
  
"Fine, I'll leave," he drawled, heading for the door.  
  
"Hey, Piccolo, where are you off to so early?" came a familiar voice. "Usually you stick around a bit longer." Piccolo twitched and turned around to see Goku standing in the entryway, little Goten sleepily at his heels. (A/N: I realize Goku's dead at the end of the series. Oh well, consider me a fanfiction necromancer.)  
  
"Your wife wants me gone," he said, shrugging. "Because I might scare the girl sleeping in Gohan's bed."  
  
"Oh, Foura? That might be a good idea," Goku mused aloud. "Sad story, that one has. Will you be needing the car tonight?"  
  
Piccolo twisted the doorknob. "Yeah," he said.  
  
Goku scratched his head. "You know, I never understood why you drive the car downtown. Why don't you just fly?" This got Piccolo grinning.  
  
"The backseat is cheaper than a hotel room," he said. And with that, he left.  
  
  
  
-*-  
  
  
  
Chichi, a bit disturbed by Piccolo's parting words, glanced up at her husband only to find him confused. "Goku," she said. "Tell me you understood that." Gohan, shaking his head with a smirk, washed out his dish in the sink and left the room to study.  
  
"Of course I did!" Goku spat indignantly. "You must think I'm really stupid."  
  
"Not at all," Chichi reassured.  
  
"He takes naps in the backseat," he clarified. "Duh!"  
  
"Um…Miss Chichi…"  
  
The couple turned to the young woman wrapped in the bedsheet. Her mouse- brown hair, disheveled and crusty with blood, stood up in all directions while her half-lidded blue eyes stared dully ahead of her. She trembled visibly under the green linen.  
  
Goku approached Foura first, which only resulted in her backing up fearfully into the dim hallway. Chichi followed her husband and tugged him backwards.  
  
"Trust me, hon," she whispered. "You're a man. You're only making this worse for her."  
  
Foura slid down the wall and pulled the sheet miserably over her head. "Stay away," she groaned. "Don't touch me…please…don't…"  
  
Chichi knelt beside the girl and held her close. How old was she…? She looked Foura over and brushed the hair from her brow. Twenty-two? That couldn't possibly be right… Twenty-seven or twenty-eight maybe…  
  
Well, it didn't much matter. Whatever her age, she was too young to have to go through such a painful ordeal.  
  
Foura grasped onto Chichi for dear life and choked on her tears. "Don't let that man touch me," she barked thickly. "Please, god…make him go away… Make it stop… Please stop it, please! Stop it!" Goku stood at the end of the hall by the kitchen doorway and watched his wife soothe the poor girl. She was so small and so frightened, and all because of him.  
  
"What did I do wrong?" he called to Chichi. "Why is she so afraid of me?"  
  
"Goku, please," Chichi cried. "Just…go away for a little while."  
  
The Saiyajin's eyebrows shot up. Chichi had never told him to go away before. He bit his lip in thought and exited the hallway.  
  
When Foura's eyes finished shedding its tears for the time being, they drifted towards the space that Goku had occupied just moments prior. She sniffled and used Chichi's shoulder to stand. "Can I take a shower, Miss Chichi?" she asked timidly. "I promise I won't take too long…"  
  
"Of course you can, dear," Chichi said.  
  
"Will you stand by the door to make sure he doesn't come in…?"  
  
Chichi took a deep breath. It wouldn't work for Foura to stay in a house with three males. Sure, her paranoia may only last for a day or two, but what if it lasted longer? What if she locked herself in the guest room and refused to come out in fear of Goku or Gohan? Chichi couldn't just hand the girl off to the authorities. She needed to be watched. She needed to be cared for in a place devoid of high amounts of testosterone. She needed… wait, that wasn't right…  
  
"I'll stand guard, yes," Chichi agreed. "Towels are in the bathroom already." Foura sighed in relief pulled the bedsheet closer around her delicate frame.  
  
She needed…Piccolo?  
  
  
  
-*-  
  
  
  
(A/N: Where the hell does Piccolo LIVE?! In any case, I'm making something up…)  
  
"What do you mean she needs…me?" Piccolo asked, about ready to close the door. "You're a woman, and women have natural instincts that allow them to nurture things and heal them or some such documentary bullshit. And this is my house, and I refuse to share it with another living being, even if they are emotionally scarred for life. So take her someplace else, will you?"  
  
He started to shut the door, but Chichi thrust herself into it and flew into the Namek's cabin. "Listen to me," she growled. "That girl waiting out in the car is alone, terrified, and just about sure that every man alive is bent on having his way with her. You're the only person I could think of to take care of her."  
  
"You must be damn desperate."  
  
"Not desperate, just smart. All of my girlfriends are married, or live with their boyfriends or fathers. Foura can't be around men. Don't you get it?"  
  
Piccolo glared daggers at Chichi. He knew what she was getting at. The topic has always been somewhat of a sore spot. He didn't exactly feel up to talking about his gender neutrality. "Yes, I get it!" Piccolo finally shouted. "I don't have a dick! Good day!"  
  
He grabbed Chichi's arms and shoved her out the door. There to meet them, however, was a young woman with waterlogged hair and a green bedsheet draped over her shoulder. Piccolo stared at her, a little amused that she wasn't cowering in front of him. She walked up beside Chichi and held the sheet in a protective grip.  
  
"Is this him?" she inquired.  
  
Piccolo folded his arms across his chest. "Is that her?" he asked. Chichi nodded.  
  
"You'll be just fine, Foura," she assured. "Piccolo will take excellent care of you."  
  
"Hold up!" the Namek bellowed. "I never agreed to take her in!"  
  
Foura appeared rather taken aback by this, and Piccolo could tell she was trying her best not to allow her disappointment to show. He pursed his lips.  
  
Chichi's stature dropped at his words, but she decided not to argue any further. "Fine, Piccolo…if that's the way you want it," she said. "Come on, Foura. I guess I can drop you off at the Police Station on my way home."  
  
Piccolo saw it for a mere fraction of a second. Foura had looked at him with…longing – a critical longing. She wanted the safety he could provide. She wanted security in knowing that nothing might ever happen to her ever again. In refusing, he would be opening her to the elements – to the cruel severity of a world that would bear down on her.  
  
He knew the look well…  
  
"Hey, hey," he called out to them. "Chichi, wait."  
  
She halted in her steps and turned. "Yes, Piccolo?"  
  
"I'll take her," he surrendered. "I'll take her."  
  
Foura hugged the bedsheet to her chest and advanced upon Piccolo with a sense of caution. She extended her hand in gratitude, and he led her into the cabin and closed the door. Outside, by the car, Chichi smiled.  
  
  
  
-*-  
  
  
  
End of chapter two.  
  
  
  
Like the direction it's going in? Hate it? Wanna give me suggestions or pointers? I'm really trying not to make Foura too much of the Mary Sue I know she is. Thanks in advance for all those who review. And thanks now for all those who already have. 


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